


Waking Nightmare

by Kereea



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Brainwashing, Court of Owls, Gen, Talons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick vanished right before the Night of the Owls. Two weeks later, Damian finds out why…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a non-reboot world that still had Dick go back to Nightwing and the Court of Owls still happened.

 His father and Drake hadn’t given up, so Damian had refused to as well. They would find out what happened to Dick Grayson, no matter what.

 Damian knew he owed him. The man had been willing to make him Robin, to let him prove that he could be Robin. And even if his father didn’t seem to like him as Robin as much as Grayson had, Damian was still indebted his older brother, since his father never would have made him Robin on his own.

 The trail was still cold. They knew it had to do with the Court of Owls and their big night, but they didn’t know what. His father and Drake had spent a good deal of time interrogating the remaining Owls, and Damian, Brown, and Cassandra had been dealing with various Talons that still seemed to pop up on the streets, often bringing them to Batman for questioning if they hadn't gone full-feral yet. 

 Damian had been put on an easier route tonight, since his father felt his patrols had been taking too much out of him. Damian hadn’t fought it, he _was_ tired, and he’d need to be fully awake if a lead about Grayson presented itself.

 A ruckus down in the alley, Looked like some muggers. “R to O, muggers, Pearl Avenue. Going to engage.”

 “Copy,” Oracle replied. “Be careful.”

 “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying not to sound annoyed at the unnecessary concern. Oracle had been over-tense since Dick’s disappearance, and Brown and Cassandra had firmly instructed him to ‘play nice’ as it were.

 He swung down….right as someone else did.

 Damian’s eyes narrowed. “O, Talon.” He grabbed the victim and shoved her out of the alley, barking a quick order for her to “Run!”

 The Talon had already killed one of the muggers…odd, but it meant this wasn’t a set-up. That was unlikely though, since most of the Talons had been running around near-feral after the Court’s defeat.

 He grabbed the still-living mugger and knocked him out before going for the Talon, since he didn’t need any distractions when fighting someone like this.

 He hoped that knowing he didn’t need a distraction was why Oracle hadn’t told him if backup was coming.

 The Talon was fast, and clearly had more energy. Damian skipped any niceties and went right for sucker-punches and stabbing with a Batarang in non-lethal areas.

 He kept trying for something crippling—a major tendon or a knock-out—but nothing was working. The Talon kept dodging, far better than most usually did. Damian finally saw an opening and swung a kick straight upwards into the Talon’s jaw.

 The mask went flying, and Damian couldn’t help it. He froze. “No.”

 It was Dick.  How could it be…why would they even want him? How did they get him?

 Damian yelped as he dove to avoid a slash to the face.

 “R, what’s happening?” Oracle demanded. “R!”

 “It’s…it’s N! Nightwing!” Damian said, blocking another slash. “I don’t know how, but…the Talon…it’s—AH!”

 That cut got him in the side, dropping him, and in his shock over it being Dick he’d cried out before he could stop himself.

 “Listen to me, Blackbat and Batgirl are on their way,” Oracle said, her voice shaking. “They’ll be there soon. You just have to hold out.”

 “Right,” Damian said, rolling out of the way of a slash and getting back up. He looked at the Talon…no, at Dick. “You have to listen to me-”

 They both twitched at a click. Damian could see who it was. A man with a gun, probably a fellow of the other two muggers, was standing right behind Dick, aiming at the acrobat’s back.

 Damian saw him pull the trigger. “NO!”

 He dove to knock Dick out of the way, and felt bullets and heard Oracle yelling in his earpiece. Then everything went black.

.o.o.o.

 Damian’s eyes flew open. He was in a shack somewhere. Had he been captured?

 He went to sit up, only to find he couldn’t move. He started to pray he hadn’t somehow been paralyzed again.

 “I put paralytics in the painkillers,” said a dull voice.

 Damian managed to twist his head to the side. Grayson stood there, his eyes oddly dead looking and why was he wearing-?

 It all came back to him. The alley fight. The Talon. Dick Grayson. “D-dick…”

 Grayson cocked his head and pursed his lips. “You want to call your savior that, little bird?”

 Damian shuddered slightly. When Grayson used to call him ‘little bird’ or even ‘little D’ there was warmth. This was cold. “It…it’s your name…short for Richard…”

 Grayson was still looking at him like that. “I saved you.”

 Damian nodded faintly, unable to move anything else and unsure of how to reply.

 “I don’t…save people,” Grayson said, the frown deepening. “I kill. I’ve always killed for the Court.”

 “No…” Damian rasped, his throat going dry. No, Dick hated the very _idea_ of killing. He’d been tricked, brainwashed, somehow made to kill… “No…you…”

 Suddenly Grayson was almost on top of him, a hand clamped around Damian’s throat.

 “I know you,” he snarled. “How do I know you?”

 Damian couldn’t say anything, but the pressure on his neck eased as Grayson looked confused again.

 “I know you,” Grayson repeated. “Why did I call you ‘little bird’ and why did I save you?” His hand tightened again, choking Damian. “Why didn’t I just _kill_ you?”

 Damian stared at him, wide-eyed and trying desperately to breathe.

 The grip eased again, and Grayson’s other hand came up and stroked Damian’s face. “You…were shot. I’ve seen you shot before…right in front of me…but we’ve only just met.”

 “No,” Damian choked out. “The Court…they messed with you mind! We know each other! _You’re my brother!_ ”

 Dick frowned again. “No. I’ve been with them my whole life, little bird.”

 “Then how did you know I’ve been shot before?” Damian countered. “Shot in front of you?”

 “A daydream, maybe…a waking dream,” Dick muttered.

 “No…no it was real,” Damian insisted.

 Grayson leaned close and breathed into his ear, “You’re confused, little bird. Confused and confusing.”

 He pulled back. “I owe you, little bird…so you can rest up here.”

 “I don’t have a choice, do I?” Damian asked quietly.

 “No,” Grayson replied, wandering out into the hall and leaving Damian alone.

.o.o.o.

 Damian woke up again, having dozed off from the boredom and numbness. Grayson was in the room again, and Damian’s eyes widened—his brother’s gloves were covered in blood.

 “Why am I still alive?” he asked. This version of his brother clearly had no trouble with killing. Why not him? Why not kill him?

 “I want to know why you do things to my head,” Grayson replied quietly. “I want to know why I _can’t_.”

 “I told you why,” Damian said. “You’re my brother…you…you’ve been taking care of me, for awhile, I mean…” He didn’t know how to put it. He’d never been able to properly classify what he felt around Grayson, or how Grayson’s attention felt other than ‘nice.’

 Grayson wandered over, still looking confused. “But…you’re not from the Court…and Talons never train other Talons.”

 “You’re not either,” Damian protested.

 Grayson grabbed his face. Damian felt blood smear across his jaw.

 “I was born to be, little bird.”

 “Y-you were adopted…before they could,” Damian choked out. “You’re not part of their court; you’re part ofmy family!”

 Grayson stared at him for a moment, before he suddenly struck Damian, snapping his head to the side.

 “Stop being confusing!” he growled, his eyes darkening.

 Damian stared at him, afraid. He’d been dealing with feral Talons for over a week. Once they went berserk, they were mindless killing machines that went after everything nearby, and had to be taken down hard.

 The five that hadn’t been shot by cops, that Damian, Brown, and Cassandra had caught, were all in Arkham. He didn’t want Grayson to become like that. “Don’t...”

 Grayson froze, and grabbed his head.

 Damian strained against the paralysis trying desperately to move something, anything, but all he managed was to turn his head when Grayson fell off the cot and onto the floor, still digging his fingers through his scalp.

 “Why?” Grayson shouted. “Why…you were…you were afraid…and I didn’t like it! I’m supposed to be feared!”

 Damian stared. His brother had never liked being feared, it was why most had figured out he wasn’t the original Batman when they met face to face. He didn’t like scaring people, so it only made sense the real him would be appalled at scaring his own brother.

 “Maybe you just don’t want me to fear you,” he offered. It was all he could manage.

 “Want…” Grayson muttered. He smiled slightly, but with the still-dead eyes it was more disturbing than comforting. “I want my little bird to stop confusing me.”

 Damian countered with, “ _I_ want my big brother back.”

 Grayson’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t…know who you think I am…but you’re wrong…” he stared at Damian again. “But…I… _want_ …you here…”

 “I noticed,” Damian muttered. Clearly getting through to Grayson only came in spurts that didn’t always stick.

 “Good. You’re staying,” Grayson said.

 Damian watched him leave. This time he forced himself to stay awake by sharply biting his tongue whenever he started to nod off.

 He needed a plan.

 He had time on his side—now that his father knew Grayson was alive and he and Damian were in the same location, they’d be searching even harder. Grayson couldn’t have taken him far with those injuries, and in order to patch Damian up and keep enough painkillers and paralyzing agents on hand, they were probably within a short run of a major hospital, probably one with lax security.

 Grayson seemed to remember him somehow. But the memories were fragmented, and clearly warring with the false ones. He just needed something that would be a trigger…something that _wasn’t_ his being shot in front of his brother.

 Damian wracked his mind for something he could use. Was there anything he’d told Grayson that was memorable, anything he could repeat or bring up?

 He supposed the most notable thing he ever said was declaring that he wouldn’t let the apocalypse happen unless he said so, but that probably wouldn’t work. There had to be something, though.

 It finally came to him, and he let himself sleep. He’d say it the first chance he got.

.o.o.o.

 He woke up when Grayson thrust an apple at him.

 “Eat,” his brainwashed brother said. He tugged Damian into a seated position—Damian noted that while he had a little more feeling in his neck, probably for swallowing, he couldn’t manage much else—and pressed the apple to his mouth.

 Damian took a bite. It was slow going. Finally just the core was left and was tossed aside. Now a water bottle was brought to his lips.

 “And drink,” Grayson said.

 Damian drank.

 “Good little bird,” Grayson murmured, ruffling his hair. It felt so much like the more normal hair ruffling the normal Grayson gave Damian that Damian almost forgot about the brainwashing.

 “Do you remember anything?” Damian asked.

 Grayson nicked his ear with a sharp nail. “No being confusing, little bird.”

 “Can I ask you something anyway, to see if you remember?”

 Grayson frowned, but nodded, humoring him.

 Damian took a deep breath. “We can’t be Batman and Robin anymore, can we?”

 Grayson seemed to process the question slowly, before his brow furrowed. “Batman…we?”

 “Ring any bells?” Damian asked. His brother had often brought that question up when he tried to ‘have a moment’ with Damian in the past.

 Dick seemed to be thinking about it, “You’re…Robin…”

 “No, really?” Damian drawled before he could stop himself. He received a sharp rap to the head for it.

 “You’re Robin…you know him…”

 “I know you,” Damian said, trying to keep the conversation on track.

 “No, no…you know Batman,” Dick said, his teeth glinting. “The Court sentenced him to-”

 “No!” Damian yelled, backpedalling. Shit, shit, he hadn’t thought of that!

 “I’ll get it out of you,” Dick purred. “I think part of my little bird wouldn’t mind…you like me, after all.”

 Damian couldn’t help it. He started crying. “N-no! No, you won’t , you can’t! Dick, please, please, no!” How could they have done this…what could have taken Dick Grayson and twisted him into…into this?

 A clawed glove carefully lifted a tear off his face and Dick seemed to inspect it. “You don’t like that idea, little bird?”

 “Dick, no, I’ll do whatever you want just…not that!” Damian said. “Not any of our family, please!” He choked over the pleas as the crying continued, he couldn’t stop, not now, now it was all too much.

 “Family…” Dick muttered, flicking the wetness off his glove. “No…no family for me…but I have you…”

 Damian didn’t know what to make of Dick’s expression, it was hard to make out between the ebbing tears and those dead, dead eyes and he didn’t know if Dick still felt anything for him or just saw him as a possession or what. “Y-you can keep me. I won’t leave! Just don’t hurt them! Please!” This Dick, this Talon…he could kill any of them, even Batman, even Cassandra, they’d never be able to fight him properly, too afraid of hurting their own…

 Dick hummed quietly, seeming to think that over. “No running.”

 “No,” Damian agreed.

 “You’ll be mine,” Dick added, sharp glove running thought Damian’s hair with just enough gentleness not to make his scalp bleed. “My little caged bird…”

 Damian hoped it was just the stress that made his assure himself that frankly at least it was better than what his mother would do if she got him again. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay.”

 Maybe if he did, he could find the real Dick Grayson again.


	2. Caged

 The next time Damian woke up, he could move…with the slight detriment of being connected to the bed with a ten foot chain and the bed now being bolted down.

 Damn it. Even _brainwashed_ Dick could be meticulous at random times... “So…we never addressed what you want from me…”

 “I want you to stay,” Dick said bluntly from where he was leaning in the corner.

 “Stay…and?” Damian asked. He could probably slip those chains, but then Dick might go back on his word and…no. Stay put for now.

 “And…make sense,” Dick decided, sitting down on the end of the bed and lightly running a hand down Damian’s neck to rest on his shoulder.

 Damian nodded slowly. That wasn’t good. Dick seemed to equate “making sense” with “not telling me I’m not what I am right now” which was frankly all Damian wanted to do, every day at all hours until something managed to click.

 “What if…I’m _trying_ to make sense, but I accidentally don’t?” Loophole, please be a loophole...

 “I’ll warn you,” Dick said, his grip on Damian’s shoulder becoming painfully tight. “I know little bird’s silly and can’t help himself, so I’ll help you instead!”

 Damian gulped. Great. “Did you…think about the other thing I said?”

 “I’m not sure why Batman wouldn’t want you as Robin,” Dick said blithely.

 Something in Damian broke. “No, no, no, I was talking to you when I said it!”

 “Because you told it to me.”

 “No, when I first said it!” Damian yelled as those stupid tears started up again. “When I first asked that _I was asking you, Grayson_!”

 Dick had been watching the breakdown almost quizzically until that final word, his last name. “You…normally…call me…that…”

 Damian tried to become more coherent as fast as he could, “Y-y-yes! I usually use last names on people, remember that?”

 “But you’ve been calling me Dick now,” Dick noted.

 “S-so? I’d missed you,” Damian muttered.

 “…How? Did they steal you from the Court or-”

 “Fuck the court!” Damian screamed. “The Court is dead! Dead, _dead_ , **_dead_**! We killed them!” Okay, that was metaphorical, they’d really shut them down and taken them out but frankly Damian was in the mood for more graphic terms after what they had done to his brother. “Dead and buried! Fucking **dead**!”

 “The Court never dies,” Dick said seriously.  Damian squeaked as he was pinned down. “Little bird needs to stop _lying_ now.”

 “That’s my warning?” Damian questioned. At the nodded reply he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry for confusing you. But that is the truth. The Court is gone.”

 He hissed as a claw-gloved finger split his cheek open, right by his left ear.

 “ _You didn’t listen_ ,” Dick said sternly.

 “S-sorry,” Damian said, too scared of those dead eyes to do anything else. He didn’t move even as Dick got up and left in a huff, too stunned at feeling the blood lazily dripping down his cheek.

.o.o.o.

 Damian didn’t know how long he’d been there. Surely it had been long enough for Father and Drake to find them…but then, due to their agreement, Dick didn’t need to keep getting paralytics anymore, so that clue might not hold any weight if they had been looking at it.

 He’d fallen asleep again. There was a hunk of gauze taped to his cheek that hadn’t been there before and a bottle of water and a sandwich—likely stolen from a convenience store—on the floor by the bed.

 So. Dick was out. Maybe now he could plan…

 But he didn’t know how long he’d been here, in an enclosed little room with only a dim ceiling light and and a window too well boarded to see light through. He didn’t know if it was night or day,  and even though logically he felt it should have been more than four days or so it felt both longer and shorter at the same time, messing with his perception.

 Damian chewed the sandwich sulkily. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe Dick really was gone. Maybe he should leave and just warn the family about the threat Dick now posed instead of stay here and…

 No. He couldn’t and he knew it. He couldn’t leave Dick when there was even a chance of saving him. Maybe this was how Dick and Father felt about Todd…

.o.o.o.

 Damian woke up again. It was just hard to stay awake in the given circumstances. The stress coupled with lack of ability to move much and poor nutrition…

 He frankly had no wish to leave because he wanted to try and save Dick first, even if more and more of his brain was insisting that it was a lost cause. His sense of time was shot, meaning he had no way to gauge how long he’d been here and thus how long he’d been affecting Dick compared to the couple of weeks the Court likely had him.

 He didn’t even know what they’d done. Being a Talon was supposedly hereditary, but frankly Damian would never have believed Dick capable of these things if he hadn’t seen them and knew Dick _never_ would have done them if in his right mind.

 Dick wouldn’t have hurt him if he was in his right mind. Never.

 So what could they have done to him? Their family were all well trained in resisting torture, especially mental torture…drugs? Unlikely given Dick’s frequent adolescent exposure to the Joker, the Scarecrow, and so on.

 Maybe it had something to do with the weird element in Talons’ blood? But Dick didn’t look like the active Talons did. Maybe it had been inactive too long and didn’t work right? But then why was Dick so different? Damn he was so different…

The door opened and Dick wandered in.

 “Richard,” Damian said.

 “Little bird,” Dick replied. “What do you know about the red man?”

 “Red man?” Damian asked. That could be anyone. Drake. Cavalier if he was wearing the costume again. Red Tornado in town for help with JLA business. Todd. Probably Todd. “Could you be more specific?”

 “No bat,” Dick said, gesturing to his chest. “Coat. Red, hard face.”

 Todd then.

 Damian nodded, “He’s dangerous. But you and father always wanted to bring him ho—ow, ow, I’m sorry!”

 Dick released his arm. “You lie too easily little bird.”

 “I’m sorry,” Damian muttered. “But you didn’t warn me…I just…”

 “Should I kill him then?” Dick mused.

 Damian choked. “N-no!” No, Dick would never forgive himself and Damian could never forgive himself for letting him…

 “Then what?” Dick asked.

 “You said you wouldn’t hurt the bats. He’s a bat,” Damian said. “He’s with them. You hurt him, I leave.”

 “He’s not a bat,” Dick said skeptically.

 “He is,” Damian said. “So you can’t or we won’t have our deal!”

 Dick’s fists clenched and he loomed over Damian. “If he’s a threat, then he has to die!”

 “No, you just have to avoid him!” Damian said. “You just have to avoid _all_ of them!”

 Dick hissed and sat on the edge of the bed, “That’s not what the Court-”

 “What if the Court is hiding for now?” Damian asked. “It’s not like you’ve heard from them lately! Maybe they want you to lay low too!”

 Dick looked conflicted. Damian decided to push that conflict further. He grabbed his brother’s shoulder, “Please, Richard? For me?”

 Dick softened. Sharp nails ran though Damian’s hair. “All right, little bird. We do it your way, for now.”

.o.o.o.

 If Jason was close, the family would likely be closer. Jason was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a better detective than Father or Drake or Oracle. If Jason was really poking around here, and not just beating up drug dealers, then someone had noticed something.

 Of course, given that obsession ran and the family and Damian had confirmed Dick was alive, they could have just been combing the whole damn city, too. There was always that.

 Dick stormed in, his hands once again covered in blood.

 Damian swallowed, “So, who was-?”

 “Gang.”

 “Why would you be going after gang members?” Damian asked. That made no sense-

 “Some of then shot at the red man.” Dick’s face contorted in a snarl. “I can’t see you get shot, I can’t see him get shot—why can’t I stand seeing you both shot?”

 Damian swallowed. If Dick had some form of memory about Damian getting shot by Jason…then what did he remember about Jason’s death? About Jason’s corpse?

 Did that mean Dick was remembering things? “Are you all right?”

 “My head..” Dick hissed. “That’s not something that happened…he’s not that kid…”

 “A bloodied kid in a coffin?” Damian asked quietly.

 Dick stared at him, “You’ve seen it too?”

 Damian nodded. He’d seen the images, back when he was still with his mother and researching his father. “His name is Jason, Dick. He’s the red man.”

 Dick stood there until a loud crack echoed in the building.

 “What was that?” damian asked.

 “Someone breaking in. Stay here,” Dick said darkly.

 “I can help!” Damian said. There was no way in hell he was letting his brother just run off to deal with…whatever it was alone!”

 “Stay here,” Dick repeated, shutting Damian in.

 Damian rolled his eyes and started picking at the lock on the chain. Like hell he was staying here.

 The boards over the window fell away. “-so anyway, I’ll try and get them form behind from up here, all right, and then we’ll-”

 “Drake?” Damian asked.

 “Oh my…oh my god, Damian!” Drake cried. “Guys, Damian’s here, and that means-”

 A loud bellow of “NIGHTWING?” came from a lower level.

 “What are you doing?” Damian demanded as Drake quickly cut the chain off him.

 “Chasing a gang that looked like they were attacking this place,” Drake said. “What are you doing?”

 “…Staying with Grayson,” Damian said. “Oh no, the gang member he killed-”

 “Wait, _Dick_ killed?” Drake asked.

 “The court did something to him, he’s not himself,” Damian said. “He doesn’t remember you, he barely remembers anything about me, and-”

 Jason fell through the door, wrestling with a gang member. Dick pounced after the both of them, the sharp claws cutting through the man’s throat.

 “Damn it, Nightwing, the hell are you doing?” Jason yelled before Dick threw him into a wall.

 Drake instinctively moved between Damian and Dick, not seeing just how bad of an idea that was.

 “Stay. Away. From. Him,” Dick hissed.

 “You don’t know what you’re doing,” Drake said shakily. “Nightwing, listen to me, please-”

 “Red Robin, get away,” Jason said, struggling to his feet. “He killed those gang members. He’s dangerous. Get the kid and get out!”

 “You won’t take him!” Dick snapped, his fingers getting around Drake’s neck.

 “NO!” Damian screamed, “No, Dick, please!”

 Dick paused.

 “It’s Tim! And Jason!” Damian argued, frankly glad Dick had slaughtered the present gang member just so he could say that outright. “Y-you have to remember Tim and Jason! You have to!”

 Dick threw Tim aside, prowling over to Damian as Tim hit the floor hard. “No. I. Don’t.”

 Damian heard Tim’s breath catch and Jason sigh in frustration. So it wouldn’t work then. Was Dick gone?

 “Do you remember Bruce?”

 Dick snarled, keeping himself between Damian and the door where Batgirl had appeared. Shaking, Stephanie held her head high, looked Dick in the eyes, and offered a book.

 Damian recognized it—it was one of Alfred’s scrapbooks. “Take it…Dick, I’ll stay, I promise, they promise not to take me, but please, please look at that book!”

 At first Dick didn’t move, but Damian saw his lips silently ask “Bruce?” with some sort of recognition. He took the book before sitting next to Damian.

 The proximity meant that Damian could see the growing recognition in his eyes, hear the harsh panting as Dick realized something was wrong if he could and couldn’t remember at the same time while paging through a book of his earliest days at the manor.

 “Dick…I know it’s usually you saying this to me,” Jason said, lowering his knife. “But…please come home?”

 Damian watched as Dick silently shut the book and closed his eyes, tears leaking out anyway. “What…happened…to me?” he asked.

 “Come home and we’ll figure it out,” Tim offered, smiling slightly.

 Dick frowned and rubbed at his head, before hissing in pain.

 “Dick!” Damian and Jason shouted as their oldest brother slumped over, unconscious. Tim raced over, checking vitals hurriedly while Stephanie gathered Damian in the tight hug. Damian let her until she moved to pull him away.

 “No! No, let me stay with him, please!” Damian yelled, kicking and shoving only for Jason to snatch him away from Stephanie and hold him in a much more restraining fashion.

 “Kid, we need to get Dick to a hospital, and you know it!” Jason barked sternly. “Same for you! Calm the hell down!”

 Something about how absolutely _not_ soothing that was helped. “Please let him be okay.”

 Jason petted Damian’s hair stiffly as Stephanie and Tim started to maneuver Dick out to the car. “Could say the same for you. Come on, it’s over.”

 They both knew that was a lie. There was still a long ways to go, but that was all up to Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't get what happened, Jason was hunting gang members with Tim and they started finding evidence of Dick, which prompted Stephanie to being the book since Oracle predicted something must be wrong with Dick's mind due to the whole initial Talon scare. they totally found Damian and Dick by accident tonight.


	3. Free

 “We could get J’onn,” Barbara suggested.

 “I called,” Bruce said. “He wants to wait until Dick wakes up. Good job with the scrapbook, Stephanie.”

 “Thanks,” she said. “How’s Damian?” Barbara and Bruce both winced.

 “He’s clearly traumatized, on some level,” Barbara said. “It’s hard to gauge. I mean, he gave his reasons for staying willingly but…he stayed willingly. Kid could have slipped that chain at any time.”

 “He was trying to protect us,” Bruce admonished. “It’s one of the bravest things I’ve seen him do. I don’t like that he felt he had to, but it was still very brave of him.”

 Over by the displays for cameras watching Dick and Damian’s hospital rooms, two people who rarely talked were having a different conversation.

 “I thought you’d be mad he didn’t remember you,” Tim admitted. “Or, you know, said he didn’t.”

 “Didn’t remember _you_ at all though, did he?” Jason shot back. “Besides, he’s been around the runt more than either of us for over a year now. Had to leave an impact. I’m more concerned about the kid.”

 “To Damian…Dick’s the only one who loves him. Unconditionally,” Tim said. “He gets that his parents do in their own way but he knows the only one he would _really_ have to work to lose their love is Dick, not one of them.”

 “Then that situation must have fucked him up but good,” Jason said. “So, Detective Junior, what do you think they did to Dick?”

 “Looks like they activated the electrum in his system; that’s chemical that gives the Talons their healing factors,” Tim said. “Been dormant for so long it probably didn’t work quite right, so his eyes look the same and his healing’s only a bit better than it was. There were some signs of mind-altering chemicals and electroshock, and I’d guess some psychological stuff too. Covered their bases, as it were.”

 “…Think he’ll come out of it?” Jason asked.

 “I don’t know,” Tim said. “On some level, some part of him remembers, so I can hope so…”

 “Kid won’t recover much if Dick doesn’t,” Jason noted.

 “He _already_ isn’t recovering,” Tim said as Damian slipped his IV and started pacing his room. Tim picked up his com, “Cavalier, this is Red Robin, tell Dr. Thompkins the kid’s out of bed again.”

 “ _Again?_ Will do,” came the reply.

 “I vote he gets grounded for pulling that shit,” Jason said.

 “In his mind, he already is,” Tim pointed out. “Oh, _shit_.”

 “Bruce!” Jason yelped as the on-screen Damian ducked the orderly sent to get him back in bed and went down the hall.

.o.o.o.

 “ _Let me go!”_

_“Let him sleep, you little rapscallion!”_

_“I will, just let me see him!”_

 Blue eyes opened at the commotion.

 Dick Grayson winced. Oh his head…it was like it’d been hit with a wrecking ball. What had happened? He’d been patrolling, normal night…

  _“I want to see my brother!”_

 “ _Kid, I do not want to use my rapier!”_

 “ _Yeah, cause_ I’ll _use it on_ you _!”_

 Dick had just identified the arguers as Damian and Mortimer Drake (no relation to Tim, as he usually laughed over) when suddenly it came back to him.

 Torture-electricity-drugs and things just slipping, slipping, he’d wanted to hold onto them but kept losing them as it went on and on and wrong replaced right and-

 “Oh god,” Dick muttered. “I hurt Dami.”

 There was a sharp intake of breath to his right. Turned out what he had thought were just shadows by the dark window was actually Cass with her head down.

 “Remember?” she asked tentatively.

 Dick nodded, “I…what did I…”

 “ _Todd, put me_ down!”

  _“Stop using names around Morty here!”_

_“Don’t call me that, you hooded ruffian!”_

_“I said **put me down**_!”

 “Jason?” Dick asked worriedly, moving to get up.

 “Okay!” Cass said quickly. “Okay, he’s on our side! Damian needs to get in bed.”

 “…What did I do to him?” Dick asked, almost too horrified to wonder.

 “He’s mostly okay,” Tim said, appearing in the doorway. “Just malnourished. Bit…of...um Post Traumatic Stress-”

 “I gave Damian Post Traumatic Stress? I traumatized _Damian_?” Dick asked. His throat went tight. What the hell had he done? How…what did you even have to do to traumatize _Damian_?

 Tim pulled out his com, “Jason, get the kid in here. Dick’s awake and thinks he broke the him or something.”

 Cassandra smacked him, “Not so clinical. Have a heart.”

 “I do. The kid just hit it really, really hard a minute ago so it’s not functioning well yet,” Tim snarked.

 Damian appeared in the doorway with Jason, only to rush over to the bed with a cry of “Grayson!” and bury himself in Dick’s side.

 “Hey Dami,” Dick breathed. Physically he looked okay…Dick hadn’t gotten too good a look at the front of him, though, and Damian didn’t seem willing to move right now. “You…um…”

 “Not. Going. Anywhere,” Damian said sternly, likely more to their siblings than to Dick. Jason threw up his hands and headed for the door.

 “Hey, Jason?” Dick asked.

 “I didn’t do it for you, Dick,” Jason huffed, storming out.

 Tim waited until Jason’s footsteps faded before adding, “Yes he did.”

 “He and Bruce…they better?” Dick could only hope…

 “Who knows?” Cass admitted. “Damian, Dr. Thompkins said…”

 “I’m not leaving,” Damian reiterated. “You can’t make me.”

 “We’ll have to see about that,” Tim said. “Come on, Cass, let’s give them some time to talk it out. Dick, J’onn’s going to stop by tomorrow in case you need any telepathic help, okay?”

 “Got it,” Dick said, patting Damian’s head.

.o.o.o.

 Even after Drake and Cassandra left, Damian didn’t move for a long time. Finally he found it in himself to ask, “You’re really back, right?”

 He hated how small his voice sounded.

 “I’m back kiddo,” Dick sighed. “I’m…back.”

 Damian lifted his head at the hesitation, only for Dick’s eyes to go wide and his hand to grab Damian’s chin.

 “Did I do that?”

 Right. The scratch. It was stitched right now. “Um…yes…”

 Dick rested his forehead on Damian’s. “God, I’m so sorry, Dami…”

 “It’s fine,” Damian shrugged. Frankly if it had been what’d gotten his brother back he wouldn’t mind broken bones at this point.

 “It’s not,” Dick insisted. “I hurt you.”

 “You weren’t…you,” Damian said. “You didn’t remember…well, not all of you…and…and anyway, I forgive you, so there!”

 “So there,” Dick chuckled. “If the apocalypse can’t argue with you, how can I, huh?”

 “Exactly,” Damian said smugly. He frowned. “Are you…going to be okay?”

 Dick smiled sadly and didn’t answer.

.o.o.o.

 “Damian, what are you doing?” Dick demanded.

 They had been released from the hospital a week ago and for some reason now Damian was stealing Dick’s luggage. Sure, why not, they were still banned from patrolling, kid was probably going stir crazy…but why luggage?

 “Preemptive maneuver,” Damian said simply, not releasing the bags.

 “Excuse me?” Being around Damian lately had not made understanding the kid easier. Dick couldn’t remember how he’d done it as Batman.

 “Todd and Drake said you might consider leaving for another city again,” Damian said. “I am removing the option before you do.”

 “…By stealing my ability to pack?”

 “Yes. I am glad you have retained your mental faculties since returning home.”

 “You know, when you start using more big words you’re trying not to be emotional,” Dick said. “What’s wrong?”

 “I have every right to be emotional,” Damian replied sharply. “You have avoided me ever since getting home despite my trying to seek you out. Hence I am making you stay until you stop such foolishness.”

 “Damian, I’m sorry if you feel I’m avoiding you-”

 “No, you _are_ avoiding me.”

 Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “Damian…”

 “No. Admit it. Or I will not only take, but _destroy_ your luggage.”

 “Damian, I’m capable of getting more suitcases. They’re not hard to buy.”

 “Then I will steal and possibly destroy those too.”

 “…Is this really about luggage?”

 Damian huffed, “Well, in a way, yes.”

 “Damian, are you really that scared of me leaving?”

 “I am not scared of anything!” Damian protested. “I am merely…concerned. For your mental health.”

 “And I’m starting to be concerned about yours,” Dick replied.

 “Frankly _I’m_ concerned about you both holding a drawn out argument supposedly about luggage in the hallway.”

 “Oh, hey Alfred,” Dick said. “Damian, don’t you _dare_ walk off with my bags.”

 “No. I have stated my intention to take them and I will do so.”

 “Master Damian put down the suitcases,” Alfred said.

 Damian gave Alfred a sad-puppy look that could put Titus to shame but let go of the bags.

 “Thank you,” Alfred said. “I shall put these away, so why don’t you two find Master Damian’s dog and bond over bathing him?”

 “…What did he roll in now?” Damian asked.

 “Sugar,” Alfred said.

 .o.o.o.

 “So…let me get this straight,” Dick said as Damian tried to soap up Titus’ head. “I’m not allowed to leave?”

 “Not until I am certain of your mental stability, no, you are not.”

 “This despite the fact that I’m the adult and you’re the bratty ten year old.”

 “Yet sadly I am the one trying to actually deal with the problem.”

 “Problem?” Dick asked, looking up.

 “Right there. You did it again.”

 “Did what?” Dick asked.

 Damian sighed, petting Titus’ ears. “You wince when you look at me. Especially my face.”

 “Damian…I…” Had he really been that obvious? It hurt whenever Damian looked at him happily, especially when that scar by his ear was visible. It hurt knowing that he’d hurt Damian and the kid didn’t seem to mind.

 “You’re doing it _again_ ,” Damian sulked. “At least _I_ can still look you in the eye, can’t I?”

 “Damian, I _hurt_ you.”

 “I recall. I was on the receiving end.” Damian was glaring at the suds as if was their fault. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to talk about it but instead you avoid me and run away.”

 “Damian. When you…when you _hurt_ someone you’re supposed to protect…you go through _hell_ ,” Dick said. “You…you were my responsibility for a long time and just the thought of being the one who hurt you…”

 It was worse than that though, because Damian had let him. He’d looked over the files. Damian was probably the best trained Robin ever when it came to escaping, that chain never would have held him. But he let Dick keep him there and that…that was just terrifying.

 “It was a scratch,” Damian huffed. “Honestly.”

 “Damian, I never should have even scratched you!” Dick argued, pouring water of Titus’ head and getting a dirty look from the Great Dane for his trouble. “What if I…oh god what if I…”

 “You didn’t.”

 “Damian, look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have taken it if I’d done worse,” Dick said firmly.

 “If I had seriously feared for my life I would have left,” Damian hedged. “But I did not and so had no need to.”

 “Damian, that’s not what I’m asking you,” Dick said, grabbing his brother’s shoulder. “I’m asking-”

 “I don’t know,” Damian said. “I don’t know what hypothetic injury would have been enough of a threat to make me leave. I got a cut, Grayson, that’s _nothing_!”

 “Not from me!” Dick shouted. “It should not be ‘nothing’ if you got it from _me_ , Damian!”

 “I’m not saying I wasn’t scared,” Damian said, helping Tidus onto the bath mat. “Far from it. But I wasn’t scared you’d seriously hurt me or kill me. I was scared for you Grayson. I was pretty sure you were going to wake up eventually, I knew it. And I…I knew you’d be upset by what you did. I wanted to be there when it happened because you would _need_ me.”

 “Damian, you’re the-”

 “Yes, I’m the kid!” Damian snapped. “Yes, I’m the little brother and yes you’re the older brother, the adult who under normal circumstances would be the one caring for me! Even in the abnormal circumstances of our everyday lives you are most often the adult caring for me! But those were extenuating circumstances, not an everyday thing and…I just wanted my brother back, how is that wrong?”

 “It’s not, Dami,” Dick said, pulling him into a hug. “And I was trying to say you’re the sweetest kid sometimes, and I wanted you to know that.”

 Damian sniffed as a damp Titus nuzzled them both, “Why can’t things be the way they were, then?”

 “I guess I have been an idiot, huh?” Dick asked. “Don’t worry, Dami, I’ll stop avoiding you. And I won’t go running off to another city again, at least not for a long while, okay?”

 “…Can Nightwing and Robin be like Batman and Robin used to?”

 “I’ll do you one better, kid,” Dick said, kissing Damian’s head. “ _Nightwing_ doesn’t have to pretend to be an insufferable grump like Batman does.”

 “Sounds good, Richard,” Damian said. “But if you do run off to another city, please, take me with you. Father and I might not survive each other much longer and not focusing on me might give him time to fix things with Todd anyway and-”

 “Jeez, Dami, I say we can be partners again and you’re already plotting to leave?” Dick laughed. “What about stealing my luggage?”

 “Leaving Gotham is fine when you don’t leave me behind,” Damian sniffed haughtily. “Honestly, Richard.” He started to towel Titus off, the massive dog thumping his tail at the attention.

 Dick leaned back on his hands and smiled, “You know, Damian, I always hated my name. So formal and stuff. But when you say it…it kind of grows on a guy.”

 Damian smirked, “It should. It’s a much worthier name than your nickname, which is also slang for a jerk or shorthand for-”

 “Okay, okay you little pain, enough!” Dick said. “I am still sorry, though.” He ran a finger down the scar.

 “If you’d like to make it up to me, I haven’t worked with Abuse in a while, since Father will not chaperone such things and Brown has been busy…”

 “Okay, I’ll take you and your sidekick out for ice cream, how’s that?”

 “Ice cream? I’m taking drug busts! Or hunting down serial killers! Or supervillains!” Damian said.

 “Okay, so tomorrow night how about we nab Colin, bust some dealers, and then ice cream?”

 Damian considered it with all the gravity his Wayne and al Ghul genes could muster before nodding magnanimously, “Milkshakes. Much more satisfying after patrol.”

 “Oh, I know a great new place for those, actually,” Dick said, grinning. “You’ll love it, Dami, I swear!”

 “I’m sure I will, Richard. I’m sure I will.”

.o.o.o.

 “So, you okay?”

 Dick finished zipping up the Nightwing suit before turning to face Jason, “I think I can handle Damian now, thanks, Jay.”

 His younger brother’s face scrunched at the nickname, “I mean being out patrolling again. That sort of thing.”

 “What?” Dick asked.

 “I’m glad you’re more…you’re handling what happened with Damian. I’m talking about the other stuff you did when you weren’t you,” Jason said awkwardly.

 Dick closed his eyes. He could recall it in flashes, and it sickened him. Especially every time he’d gone for the throat. “I can handle it. I’ll still need to track down-”

 “Who you killed? Tim did. Attributed it to a Talon that got out of control for the cops. True, really,” Jason shrugged.

 “So he’s ‘Tim’ now?” Dick couldn’t resist asking. Jason was usually so insistent on saying “replacement” or “Restaurant Boy” after all.

 “Look, we’re saying that end’s covered, we just want you to be okay,” Jason said, ignoring the question. “I know how you feel about killing.”

 “It’s going to haunt me for a long time, Jay,” Dick said. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

 “Well, good, then,” Jason said.

 “So…you in a better place now? I know you’re hanging with Roy and Kori…”

 “She’s keeping an eye on us,” Jason said, shrugging. “Roy’s been clean since we started and the new arm I got him is better than the old one. She makes both of us talk, even if we don’t want to.”

 “That’s Kori for you,” Dick laughed. “You will  share your feelings and you will like it!”

 “I wouldn’t say I like it,” Jason said. “But…I guess…you were right that maybe I needed to think through some things.”

 Dick hugged him, “Glad we’re starting to get you back, Jay.”

 “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Jason huffed. “We’ve got a mission coming up on the west coast soon, might be gone by morning.”

 “Grayson, are you ready yet? Abuse is probably already there!”

 “Brat Wonder’s calling,” Jason said.

 “Only because Gotham’s calling. Can’t you hear it?” Dick asked, picking up his escrima sticks. “See you, Jay!”

 Jason smiled as Dick began to argue with Damian over who was driving, the loud, emotional older brother he’d grown up erasing the images of a guarded, vicious, confused Talon with laughter and confidence. “You know what, Dick? I think I really do hear it...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks! Dick's on the road to recover, Jason had come around in his own way, and the bond between Dick and Damian had survived hell! Thanks for reading!


End file.
